The Wet Rag

Well………….The crazy life just keeps on rolling! First, I know that some of you actually look forward to reading this stuff, so, I apologize for not getting it done.

I’ve been kind of busy. If you have been watching television, you might have noticed that Colorado had a pretty “good” flood. Though, there was NOTHING good about this flood, I try to tweak some good in everything.

I wish this flood was another notch in the “bucket list”, but unfortunately, it is not. I lived through another flood in 1997 that flooded our neighborhood (as well, as other neighborhoods) in our town. Although, my home was untouched by the flood, my father’s basement (the home of my youth) was flooded.

After the rains subsided, my brothers, my step-mother, nieces and nephews, my kids and an aunt began the cleanup of my father’s house. It was quite the family affair.

Did you happen to notice the someone was left off the list of people that helped with the cleanup? Yep, Ol’ Dad didn’t lift a finger. Not because of his age or any health challenges, no, he just decided he didn’t want to help. He was the Dad, (the boss) and he had plenty of kids. My father left his flooded home to meet his friends at the coffee shop. (OK, I’m still a little bitter about that one.)

I’m not sure why my aunt (Dad’s baby sister) helped that day. I don’t think my dad invited her and I don’t know if anyone had appointed her “boss”, but she assumed the position immediately.

Aunt _______ seemed to be zeroed in on bossing Elaine. After about four hours of bossing and flicking water in her face, she then threw a water soaked rag at the back of Elaine’s head. Elaine had enough of the abuse. Standing in 3″ of water on the basement floor, Elaine yelled, “_______, you (construction language)”!

My nephew and nieces started cheering and congratulating Elaine. To this day, (and this su